


Again We Rise

by mauzymorn



Series: Omertà [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Arthur!Harry, Barebacking, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Family, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Rentboy!Eggsy, Same-Sex Marriage, excalibur!eggsy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12494792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauzymorn/pseuds/mauzymorn
Summary: Part Three of theOmertàseries, followingLaid to RestandRequiemMarried life for Eggsy and Harry has been as close to ideal as two spies can really ask for, and with a previous abduction each under their belts already, that means it should be smooth sailing from here out, right?Wrong. Oh soveryWrong.Note:As this will be following along with what was done in the first two stories, this will in no way adhere to canon that may have been established inKingsman: The Golden Circle(...which I still have yet to watch)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part three! Please, MV and Fox, don't sue me. I'm so fucking broke, and I don't write these for profit (only headaches).

“For fuck sakes, Excalibur! I said _left_!”

“Keep yer hair on, Merlin… Oh. Wait.” Eggsy giggled at the Quartermaster’s growl of indignation, belatedly turning down the corridor to his left as he’d been directed. 

“We should have just said ‘fuck it’ and named you Galahad, since you seem determined to carry on your predecessor’s legacy of giving me an ulcer.” This time he released a full-bodied laugh, gasping for air around it as he ducked and narrowly avoided catching a few bullets to the face.

“A bit too close for comfort there, dearest.” Eggsy’s amusement over the situation died slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice, as he’d been unaware that the older man had been watching Merlin’s feeds. 

“S’alright, love. Got everythin’ well in-hand.” He manfully ignored Merlin’s snort of disbelief. 

“Well, if you could wrap this up all the same. Your mother rang; apparently our little princess has demanded Nando’s and the cinema this evening.” A soft smile spread across Eggsy’s face as he primed a lighter grenade to be thrown; there was a part of him that probably would never get over the thrill of hearing Harry say ‘our’, at the way that Harry had taken to joining his family as easy as breathing. 

“You spoil the girl rotten, you know.” He ignored Harry’s soft protesting _tsk_ , knowing that the other man would probably never rein in his doting behaviour. Harry was so _fucking_ good with his baby sister, it sort of broke Eggsy’s heart that the man had never gotten to have children of his own; Harry would’ve been such a good dad, if a little bit of an… _odd_ one. Ah well.

“Six more coming from the north-west, Excalibur.” 

“Cheers, Merlin.” He tossed the grenade at just the right moment, the explosion rocking the corridor with its concussive force as Eggsy ducked around a doorway in time to save himself from the flames. The sound of Harry’s put-upon sigh told him that his husband hadn’t missed how close a call _that_ one was, either. 

It was only a few hours later when Eggsy was back on British soil, showered and changed into a comfortable pair of trackies, that he walked through the door of their local Nando’s to find his family awaiting him – Harry having been pressed into meeting them ahead of him by his insistent sister. 

“Oi, what’s with this stealin’ me husband bollocks?” He said in mock-indignation as he threw Daisy over his shoulder upside-down. She was heavier than he remembered, and looked like she’d grown a few inches again. “Oh my days, I swear every time I come back from bein’ away, it’s like yer a diff’rent person.” The sound of her giggle was worth the strain to the shoulder he’d pulled earlier. 

“ _Eggsy_ , I’m not _diff’rent_! I’m still me!”

“You sure? I’m thinkin’ you mighta been replaced with a pod-person while I was gone.” 

“Nah uh!” 

“Yah huh!”

“Children.” His mum’s wry voice cut in, making them both laugh. 

“Ain’t you almost thirty, bruv?” Dennis snickered, while Mina laughed softly where she was tucked under his cousin’s arm. “What you doin’ arguin’ with a five year old?”

“I’m five and a _quarter_!” 

“Oh, excuse _me_. Five and a _quarter_ , then.” Daisy stuck her tongue out at Dennis, who returned the favour. Laughing again, Eggsy lowered the girl into Harry’s waiting arms and took the seat beside him in the booth. 

“There some kind o’ grand occasion I’m forgettin’?” He asked, not arguing that they were all there, but worried he’d missed out somewhere. 

“Nah, babes. Just thought it’d be nice to all get together, since you’d been off for a while this time.” Eggsy felt the slight pang of guilt at his mother’s words like he always did, but ruthlessly shoved it to the side; what they did at Kingsman was important work, and it had to come first in order to keep those around him safe. 

“Where’s Auntie Rae?” Dennis waved a hand at his question in dismissal. 

“Gone off to Cornwall with her girlfriends.”

“ _Cornwall_? Fuckin’ Christ, _why_?” 

“Some people _like_ takin’ relaxin’ vacations, mate.”

“Sounds borin’, if you ask me.” 

This was what he’d missed – the gentle banter of those who loved you and knew you better than anyone else, the reassuring weight of Harry’s free hand on his thigh, and the sound of his sister’s happy voice. 

Easy moments like that didn’t come around too often for spies, and it was always best to enjoy them while you were alive enough to do so – a lesson hard learned, for some. 

“ _Ri-Ri_!” Daisy’s voice was scolding from where she still rested on the man’s lap, and they all blinked at her in confusion. 

“Yes, darling?” Harry was obviously just as thrown as the rest of them, and Eggsy raised a brow at her. 

“You gotta give Eggsy his ring back!” With a blink, he realized that she was right – usually when Eggsy returned from missions, Harry would meet him right away in the hangar, in order to make sure he was still in one piece. 

There was a routine to it, now after nearly four years of marriage; Eggsy would meet him, let Harry look his fill, steal a kiss, and then wait patiently while Harry took Eggsy’s wedding band from where it rested on the chain around his neck and slipped it back onto Eggsy’s finger where it belonged. He supposed that meeting Harry at the restaurant instead of their usual routine had made it temporarily fly out of their minds. 

“Oh, yes of course, darling.” Harry sputtered, obviously feeling wrong-footed at having forgotten as well, and hastily drawing the chain from under his button-up, the little sword pendant clinking softly against the gold band as he did so.

* * *

Harry mentally berated himself. How could he have possibly forgotten that he hadn’t yet returned Eggsy’s ring? He supposed the break from their usual routine had thrown it out of his mind, but _still_. At least Eggsy didn’t seem too concerned at the misstep. 

As he softly slid the band back in place on Eggsy’s left hand, he marvelled – as he had every time he’d done so for the last four years – that they were _married_. 

Harry wasn’t altogether certain what he’d expected marriage to be like; Dennis had asked him one time if it was really any different, and for the most part the answer was _no_. The fact that they’d already been living together surely played a significant role in that – they’d already been accustomed to sharing space and a bed, eating together, arguing over whether it was one’s turn or the other to take out the rubbish. None of it had changed merely because they now had papers stating that they belonged to each other. 

But in some other ways… _yes_ , things were different. 

Harry would periodically look at Eggsy, perhaps over the dining table or while they quietly enjoyed time on the sofa together, and think to himself that life was truly a strange and funny thing, for having given him such a gift. He would hear Eggsy refer to him as ‘my husband’ and his old heart would give a jump of happiness at the acknowledgement. He would glance down at the black and gold band that sat upon his left hand, and think lovingly of the day that Eggsy had given it to him. Eggsy’s mail now came addressed to ‘Mr Unwin-Hart’, and a part of Harry would melt every time to see it. 

Married life had brought about the breaking of some old habits – for one, Harry drank far less than he’d become accustomed to, with a curious and precocious child now frequently in and out of their home – but also the establishment of new ones; often when the two of them felt they needed time _away_ from it all, they would make the drive out to the gardens of Harry’s childhood home where he would relax with a book or the news and pretend that he wasn’t ogling his husband while Eggsy weeded the flowerbeds.

Eggsy had convinced him once to ‘christen’ the gardens, but the amount of dirt that ended up in uncomfortable places ensured that they never did so again. He was perhaps getting too old for that behaviour, regardless. 

Dennis’ comment earlier about Eggsy nearing thirty had brought a bit of a jolt to Harry; it was so very hard to believe that it’d been nearly six years since he’d first gone to fetch the man from Holborn. So many things had happened in that amount of time, that it was almost as though they’d flown by – Eggsy’s training, Harry’s first coma, getting shot by Valentine, that V-Day debacle, coming back from the dead, Eggsy’s abduction by Michaelson followed by Harry’s own by DeKant, getting engaged, getting _married_ – good lord, it was like living their lives on _fast forward_. 

Perhaps their only reliable marker of time in all that while was little Daisy herself; she’d been still nothing but a babe in arms, the first time that Harry had met her upon his return from the dead. And to look at her _now_ – she’d grown so very much, it was so hard to believe that she was the same child some days. 

“Ri-Ri, can you cut up the chicken for me? I like how you do it best.” Harry broke out of his thoughts at the small voice, arms coming up around her to take the utensils before he’d even properly processed the request. 

“I _know_ you’re big enough ta say his name the right way, now.” Dennis teased the girl, laughing when she scowled at him. 

“He’s _always_ gonna be Ri-Ri! I’ll call him that when I’m _fifty_ , you’ll see!” Harry refrained from voicing the thought that he was very unlikely to still be _alive_ by the time she was fifty; there were some things you just didn’t say to children, after all. 

“Daisy, babe. Don’t wave your hands about like that, you’re gonna knock over your glass.” Eggsy chided gently, catching Harry’s own fork when her vigorous movements sent it off the edge of the table. 

“Oops… sorry, Ri-Ri.” 

“Quite alright, darling.” 

It turned into quite a lovely evening, when all was said and done. He had a wild moment of trying to picture his own parents at such a place as _Nando’s_ , and had to bite harshly into his own lip to hold back the derisive laughter at the mental image. His parents would have likely dismissed the food as ‘junk’ and never set foot in the place on the pretext of proper nutrition. 

The older he got, and the more time that Harry spent with Eggsy’s family, the more he thought that his parents had lived an incredibly _boring_ life, fretting over every little detail the way they did. 

As he tucked Daisy into her bed in their spare room at the Mews, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead when she pointed a demanding finger at the area, he thought that he much preferred the freedom, love, and excitement that life with Eggsy had brought to him.

* * *

“Tyke’s all tucked in, then?” Eggsy asked as he heard Harry come into their bedroom, still midway through carefully peeling off the wristbands that covered the deep scars circling his wrists; he’d been wearing them for his mission, and had decided to leave them on for supper with his family, but he couldn’t say that wasn’t good to get them off and let a little air at the skin. 

“Yes, of course. I was bit surprised that she’d been so insistent on coming back with us tonight, rather than going home with your mother.”

“I ain’t. She gets like that when I’ve been gone too long, mum says. Er… sorry, if you was hopin’ for a… _reunion_ , of sorts.” He felt a bit guilty for the relief that had passed through him when Daisy’d demanded to have a sleepover; the mission he’d just finished had been… _a lot_ , and he hadn’t really been feeling too game for a round of rolling in the sheets with Harry. 

“No need to apologize, dearest.” Harry murmured quietly while peeling off his own clothes. “You weren’t in the mood for it anyways.” Eggsy paused his movements and stared. Eventually sensing the scrutiny, Harry stilled while only half out of his shirt and blinked at him in surprise. “Is something the matter?”

“How’d you… how’d you know I weren’t really wantin’ to?” His husband regarded him carefully, as if uncertain whether he’d just tread on dangerous ground. 

“You’ve placed pyjama trousers on the bed…” He said slowly, and Eggsy’s brow crumpled in confusion, not seeing what connection Harry had obviously made between the two. “Eggsy, you only wear pyjama trousers if you don’t want to be touched sexually. Any other time you come to bed in your pants or nothing at all.” 

“I… do?” How was it possible that he’d somehow picked up this habit without even realizing it? Reviewing back in his mind, he could see that Harry was right – he usually felt pyjama bottoms to be too restricting, so after he and Harry had started sharing a bed as a couple he’d defaulted to as little clothing as possible; the only time he’d worn pyjamas after that point were when he was feeling like he needed a barrier of some sort. 

“You didn’t realize?”

“I… er, no. Sorry?” Frowning in concern, Harry dropped his shirt to the floor without a backwards glance and came closer.

“May I touch your face?” Eggsy nodded, feeling choked up without really knowing why. Harry’s palms were warm, the thinning skin feeling soft and dry against his cheeks. “I’d assumed over these past years that it was a conscious decision on your part, a method of you telling me that you didn’t want… _amorous_ activities, without having to go through with saying so aloud. Perhaps I should have brought this up before now…” 

“Nah,” Eggsy said quickly, his own hands coming over top of Harry’s to hold them in place when it looked like he might let go and move away. “I didn’t, I didn’t realize I was doin’ it, but… er… would it be alright if we _did_ do that? I… I have a hard time sayin’ the words, sometimes.” Harry gave him a gentle smile.

“Of course, my dear.” Pressing a kiss to Eggsy’s forehead, he slid his hands out from under his grasp and turned toward the loo with their toothbrushes. “It’s your turn to take the rubbish out in the morning, by the way.”

“The _fuck_ it is.” 

Eggsy’s shoulders dropped in relief, a stress that he hadn’t even _realized_ he’d been carrying all these years disappearing with the sound of Harry’s chuckle in the corridor. He’d always felt a bit guilty on days when he didn’t feel up to touching, or even just touching _in that way_ – like he was somehow letting Harry down by it, and never knowing how to tell the man. Because _really_ , how does a bloke tell their own fucking husband ‘ _I still love you, honey, but I really don’t feel like shagging you today_ ’?

Instead, Harry’d been watching him, _learning_ him, and had figured it out for himself without Eggsy actually having to say a word. The man was fucking _brilliant_. 

Pulling on the pyjama bottoms, he crawled into their bed to wait for Harry. Now that he knew he didn’t have to worry about whether or not he was going to give the wrong impression, he was looking forward to having a nice cuddle until they fell asleep.

It’d been a long mission away, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The soft beeping awoke them both, blearily slapping at their respective night tables in search of Kingsman glasses on instinct before awareness fully kicked in, and Harry realized that it was _his_ pair being called. Eggsy muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he obviously came to the same conclusion, abandoning his search and burying himself back under the covers.

“Somebody better be dead.” Harry half-growled, before realizing that for Merlin to be hailing him at half-three in the morning, somebody very well _could_ be. Feeling chagrined, he blew out a frustrated breath and tried again. “What is it, Merlin?”

“ _I need Eggsy to come in_.” He couldn’t help the scowl that overcame his face.

“He’s only _just_ returned, not even nine hours ago!” At his protestation, the man in question slowly un-burrowed himself from the warm covers, clicking on the soft lamp on the night table and looking at Harry with a frown of concern.

“ _I **know** , Harry – _”

“And protocol says that returning agents are to be given _at least_ a day’s rest – ”

“ _I **wrote** the fucking protocol – _ ”

“So _no_ , you can find someone else.” 

“ _Stop being a drama queen for one second and bloody well **listen** to me. We’ve had a situation in Yemen, and the Italian branch has lost an agent that was carrying extremely sensitive information; Sofia has reached out for help_ **.”**

****

“She has her own agents!”

“ _Harry. We **need** Eggsy, nobody else has his particular set of skills – you know damn well that if we were talking about anyone other than your husband this wouldna been an issue. We agreed at the beginning of this that if I felt you were acting more in the interest of your relationship than Kingman, I had the authority to over-rule you. Don’t make me do so_.” Harry gritted his teeth in frustration, as Eggsy obviously decided he was tired of being clueless to the conversation and put on his own glasses.

“Merlin, what’s goin’ on, guv?” 

“ _We need you to come in, it’s an emergency. Harry’s being a knob about it_.” Eggsy’s easy snort of laughter caused a small amount of the tension in Harry’s shoulders to dissipate, but he was still far from happy with the situation. “ _I wouldna have asked for you so soon after your last, if it weren’t an unusual circumstance_.”

“I know you wouldn’t, guv. Lemme get some kit on, and I’ll be right in.”

“ _At least **one** of you is showing some common sense_.” Merlin ended the call without further ado, and Harry found himself feeling curiously adrift.

“Eggsy – ”

“Don’t you even bloody well _dare_ to try and talk me outta this, Harry. I’m a grown man, I can handle a mission or two back-to-back, I don’t need ya to fuckin’ _coddle_ me.” There was no real heat to the words; after so many years together, they both knew that it was said more as a warning that Harry was on the verge of being overprotective rather than that Eggsy was genuinely upset. Harry sighed in defeat, knowing that in this circumstance he was well and truly beaten. 

“I’ll come in as well, then.” 

“What about Dais? Can’t just take off and leave her here alone, love.” _Damn and blast_. He’d momentarily forgotten about their little houseguest. _What to do, what to do_. 

“Your mother?” Eggsy raised incredulous brows at the suggestion, while looping a tie about his neck.

“You remember the _last_ time we woke her at the wee hours of the mornin’?” Harry shuddered at the remembrance; suffice it to say that Michelle Unwin was _not_ an early riser for a reason.

“What shall we do, then? If this is really as much of an emergency as Merlin seems to feel, then I should more than likely be on-hand as well.” Eggsy pondered the dilemma for a moment, before his face twisted into a grimace. 

“Nothin’ helpin’ it, then. We’ll have ta bring her to HQ with us…” He sighed gustily, before gesturing at the wardrobe. “Get yerself together, love, and I’ll go wake the dragon, yeah?” Nodding in acquiescence, Harry moved toward the wardrobe in order to find his own clothing as Eggsy slipped silently out of the room.

While his hands kept busy with the familiar motions of putting on a suit, Harry reviewed in his mind what he knew about current missions being overseen by the Italians; truth be told, it wasn’t all that much – typical operating procedure meant that each outlying branch had their own Head, their own version of ‘Arthur’, but each of those in charge were in turn accountable to the leader of the British branch. 

Small perks for being the founding organization, he supposed. 

But since each branch was expected to be able to run themselves, in a sense, he usually only got the bare necessities of what missions they were currently working on; making sure there was no overlap or stepped-on toes between branches was Merlin’s problem, not Harry’s. Now that he was more awake and shoving aside his concerns for his husband, Harry could recognize that Eggsy being called in to help meant the situation was quite dire, indeed. 

When Merlin had remarked about Eggsy’s _particular_ set of skills, it hadn’t been an idle comment; in the years since V-Day, the young man had garnered himself quite the reputation around Kingsman and its outlying branches – there were many who stood in awe of him, whether they liked him personally or not, a fact which Eggsy himself seemed unable to recognize. 

Upon first sitting with Eggsy in the Black Prince, listening to him rage against class disparity whilst the idea had come to Harry’s mind that perhaps he should enter the boy for candidacy, he’d even then had the concern that Eggsy would have too soft of a heart for the work. 

The police had only caught him in the first place because he’d rather crash the car than run over an innocent fox, after all.

Much to Harry’s surprise, despite Eggsy’s softness and loving personality, he’d somehow become Kingsman’s deadliest agent – their brute force, their _heavy hitter_ , as it were. Eggsy was the agent called upon when all others failed, or when there was no other solution than _absolute slaughter_. 

His athleticism and flexibility meant he moved in ways other agents weren’t trained to move – it was a frequent occurrence for the young agent to scale a wall or merely _leap_ from one building to another, rather than waste time looking for less impossible routes. Where other agents may balk at the necessity of killing in large numbers, Eggsy had seen enough of the darker side of life that he _never_ hesitated, and very rarely showed mercy – it was very black and white, and therefore very simple for him: bad men deserved their fates, and wavering for even a moment from that conviction could cost him or someone else their life.

That was not to say that Eggsy was prone to merely blindly following orders; over the last years, Merlin alone had become his personal handler, because none of the others could deal with him – mainly on account of the fact that Eggsy’s loyalty and trust had to be hard-won, and very few aside from Merlin, Roxy, Percival, and Harry himself had ever truly accomplished it. 

It was well-known around Kingsman that Eggsy was the most dedicated of agents, but would only truly answer to a select group. The name ‘Guinevere’ had stuck around partially for this reason, much to Harry’s exasperation.

Though he would rather be dragged over hot coals than admit it, Harry had come to secretly enjoy Eggsy’s ‘alternate title’, as given to him by the Knights – it was almost as though the two most prominent sides of the young man’s personality were exemplified through his titles.

 _Guinevere_ – if Kingsman were a fortress, then Guinevere and Arthur were its foundation; Eggsy never hesitated to step in where needed, to give Harry and Merlin guidance on missions involving what they’d come to dub ‘his world’; Eggsy was there to care for Harry, to oversee Kingsman’s best interests by ensuring that its leader was as healthy and stable as necessary; Eggsy knew the ins-and-outs of the organization, and could provide that information at a moment’s notice in Harry’s absence. He was truly the Queen to Harry’s King.

 _Excalibur_ – Eggsy was their steel, their sharpest and most deadly weapon, capable of large scale destruction and always, _always_ got the job done; Eggsy moved for no one’s orders but Harry, ever the Excalibur to his Arthur; he was precision, brutal efficiency, and a righteous cleaver of the modern world’s most insidious dragons. There were no foes of Kingsman or Arthur who could survive Excalibur’s strike.

Harry supposed that in many ways, Eggsy was _Guinevere_ when he was home, and _Excalibur_ whilst on-mission, the two only fully merging when someone he cared for was threatened. 

Was it really any wonder that all others had paled in comparison to so faceted a gem?

* * *

Leaving Harry to get dressed, Eggsy made his way silently down the corridor to Daisy’s room; he wasn’t looking forward to waking the little girl in the _slightest_ , but needs must and all that shite.

The warm glow of her little night light greeted him, the stuffed fox that had become her favourite toy tucked cozily under her tiny arm while golden curls spilled across her pillow; the sight was enough to make his heart melt, and he was regretful that he was about to disturb it. Kneeling down beside the bed, he brushed a hand softly over her hair.

“Daisy, my girl…” He called quietly, not wanting to frighten her awake; the late-night trip to the manor was going to confuse her enough, as was. She stirred slightly, and he brushed a thumb over her cheek, just as he’d done while she was [still a baby](https://78.media.tumblr.com/45f41633d65af35bc55adac42a16c16b/tumblr_nr5usfm0CU1uokpato7_r1_250.gif). His heart ached for a moment with how fast she was growing up on him. “My lil’ princess, time to wake up.”

“…’sy?”

“Yeah, just me, love. I need ya to wake up, me girl.” 

“Why you wearin’ yer fancy clothes?” 

“I gotta go into work, love. Ri-Ri does too, so we was thinkin’ that you could come on an adventure with us, yeah?” He tried to inject some enthusiasm into his tone, but he could tell by the troubled frown on her cute face that it wasn’t going to work. _Fuck me_. 

“But you just got _back_ from work, Eggsy! That’s not fair!” 

“I know, my lil’ flower. I’m sorry.” He was helpless with what to respond. When he’d been a child, any time he’d tried to protest that something wasn’t fair, Dean had always been real quick to snarl back _Life isn’t fair, boy!_ Eggsy’d eventually taken that to mean that life was gonna be shit to you no matter what, so what was the point in striving for better?

 _Over my dead fuckin’ body will she grow up thinkin’ the same_. 

“I don’t wanna go! I don’t want _you_ to go!” He had a sudden flash of inspiration; if there was one thing that all of the Unwins seemed to have in common, it was a compulsive need to look after one hopeless train wreck named Harry fuckin’ Hart.

“I know, love – but I need ya to be a big girl and do a favour for me, just this once, okay? ‘Cos Ri-Ri has to go into work too, and he hasn’t had a whole lotta sleep, and you know how sad he gets when I’m away. I need ya to look after Ri-Ri for me, don’t I? Can’t trust anybody else ta do that, yeah? What d’ya say, my girl?” She seemed to think it over seriously for a moment, before she nodded her head decisively. 

“Okay. Nobody takes care of Ri-Ri better than me… ‘cept _you_ , anyways.” 

“Atta girl! Let’s get ya into somethin’ warmer than pyjamas, yeah?” Later, he would feel bad about using Harry to manipulate his sister, but he supposed he’d done far worse things than that in the line of duty before. 

He knew that if Merlin was calling him in on behalf of another branch, shit must have _really_ hit the fan somewhere along the lines; Eggsy was well aware of the fact that the missions he usually got handed were the difficult ones, or the _hopeless_ ones. Knowing that didn’t bother him in the slightest – because it _meant_ something that they would come to him when all other avenues had been expended, that Eggsy’d become so fucking good at his job that _he_ was their closer, their last ‘Hail Mary’ (as he’d heard the Americans say).

It meant that he’d taken the chance that Harry had given a dumb almost-criminal, and had turned it into something worthwhile, something that _mattered_. 

Eggsy took a lot of pride in what he’d accomplished with Kingsman; how many people could genuinely say that they’d averted more than one apocalypse before the age of thirty, yeah? But it wasn’t even the big missions, like V-Day and that whack-job American bird that had a taste for _soylent green_ , if you caught his drift – it was even the slightly smaller ones, like infiltrating the Cartel in Brazil and bringing them down from the inside, or dismantling the guns-running scheme that had been plaguing the Baltics. 

His work mattered. _He_ mattered. 

Things were quiet in the cab on the way to the tailor shop, as well as on the bullet train to the manor; Daisy was drifting in and out of sleep, the dark around them and the lull of the moving vehicles going great lengths to knock her back out, whereas Eggsy was busy thinking about what might be lying ahead of him. He wasn’t sure what was keeping Harry silent, but he was guessing that it was probably concern over what he was about to be sending Eggsy into, combined with worry about things apparently being so desperate that Eggsy was needed in the _first_ place. 

He tightened his grip on Harry’s hand, Daisy snuggled in his lap, as the dark of the night surrounded them.

_Could be my last moment o’ peace for awhile. Best appreciate it while I can._

* * *

Harry stared out the window in Arthur’s sitting room, little Daisy sleeping against his chest where he cradled her, and gazed aimlessly at the slowly pinkening sky.

The situation had the potential to be dire, as it turned out, though a part of him had known that Merlin wouldn’t have disturbed them otherwise. One of Sofia’s agents, codenamed _Caravaggio_ , had been dispatched to retrieve highly sensitive documents that had found their way to an infamous thief; when pressed under video call, she’d confessed to them that they’d had a breach in security, and information about Kingsman and its outlying branches had been stolen. 

The troubling part of it was, the information taken seemed to be – on the surface – nothing of much import; a few after-action-reports of missions, some communication logs and emails between agents. 

Though the information taken hadn’t seemed to be very damaging in nature, it was still _extremely fucking difficult_ to be a functioning spy agency with those sorts of things loose out in the ether – it would still provide the person reading them with information as the the functioning of Kingsman that would be best kept secret – and added onto the fact that the very idea that there’d been a breach at all was troubling. 

Harry was immediately suspicious of the whole affair. Sofia was not a careless individual; this breach would not have come to her branch by way of small effort, which meant that someone had put a great deal of work into doing so. But then why take such seemingly inconsequential information?

Then when one considered the fact that Caravaggio, who’d been sent to retrieve the information, had just a few hours beforehand been found dead – his neck broken and signs indicating that he’d either fallen or been thrown from the roof of the building next to him. 

Tensions were high in Italy over the whole affair, and Sofia was conducting a ruthless investigation to ascertain whether or not the perpetrator had received aid in their task from within her own branch; she’d specifically requested help from Harry and Eggsy, knowing that she could trust them above all others. 

“Ri-Ri?” Daisy stirred against his chest, breaking Harry momentarily from his dark thoughts. 

“Yes, dearest?” He kept his voice soft, a genuine smile breaking across his face when she tucked her nose under his chin contentedly. 

“Tell me somethin’ I dunno.” 

It’d been a bit of a game between them, for as long as the girl had been speaking. She’d shown early on the same desire to soak up information as her brother, and had often asked such a thing of Harry. Sometimes he would tell her about different species of butterflies, sometimes about what the sunrise looked like in Madrid. Glancing back out the window, he rubbed a hand softly over her back.

“Do you know,” He murmured. “I was standing in this exact spot, the first time that I ever held you.” She pulled her face out from his neck to blink up at him in sleepy surprise.

“Really?”

“Very much so.” Her face crinkled up in concentration, before smoothing out with a pout.

“I don’t remember.” He chuckled lightly, thinking fondly that she looked so very much like Eggsy himself in that moment. 

“I should think not, dearest. You were hardly a year old, I believe. I was standing here, with your brother, and you reached your tiny little arms up at me. I asked Eggsy if it would be alright to hold you, and he handed you over to me without a word.”

“Why were we standin’ at the window?” Harry’s smile dimmed slightly as he recalled what their conversation had been about.

“It was the day of Eggsy’s twenty-fifth birthday, and we’d just thrown him a little party to celebrate. Eggsy and I had been talking about how precious you were, and the things we would be willing to do for you.” It wasn’t a lie, _per se_ – he was merely choosing to leave out the fact that the conversation had been born of his fear that Eggsy would one day go the way of his father.

“You loved me since the beginnin’ like Eggsy, then?” 

“Since I’ve known you, I’ve loved you very much, dearest.” Content with his reply, she tucked her face back into his neck, murmuring little noises as she drifted back into sleep.

Her body grew heavier, and his hands ached at the joints, but Harry remained at the window and watched the sky dawn an ominous red.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** I don't speak Italian, and have had to rely on (probably very bad) online translators, so if any of my readers speak the language and notice any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> **Edit:** I've changed a couple of the Italian translations with suggestions made by **saraemilie** \- thanks for the help!

Sofia was waiting for him the moment that Eggsy stepped off the landing pad; though still incomprehensibly beautiful as she’d always been, he knew her well enough after the last few years that he could pick out the little signs of her stress and worry – a stray hair out of place here, a wrinkle in her suit jacket there, the areas beneath her eyes looking suspiciously bright like she’d used a slightly heavier hand with her concealer to cover the dark circles of sleeplessness.

But, to be fair, Eggsy was well versed in what dark markings covered by makeup looked like, after all.

“ _Cosimo, mia cara signora, sembri agguerrita come sempre_.” A small smile tilted briefly at her red lips, and in that moment she somewhat reminded him of Roxy – they were the only two women he knew that would take the words ‘you look fierce as always’ as the highest of compliments. 

“You flatter me, _caro_. And your Italian is much improved! I will have to give praises to Arthur for such, I’m sure.” Eggsy huffed a soft breath of a laugh.

“ _Naturalmente_.” Both of their smiles died as, with pleasantries over, it was time to get down to business. “How can I help you, darling?” He offered her an arm, which she took tiredly, as they turned to begin the journey to the briefing room. 

“I am ashamed to admit that we are not progressing as quickly as I would like in our investigations. The information being stolen was insult enough, but now with Caravaggio’s death… It is all too _strange_. And I am too suspicious of a person to think this _nothing_.”

“Arthur and I agree with you – it would have cost them far too much effort to infiltrate and nab information, so the fact that they took things of no apparent interest leaves us with a very big problem. No one would have done all this without a reason.” 

“ _Siamo d'accordo_.” As they passed into the briefing room, where the Italian branch’s Quartermaster was already awaiting them – _Adelina was her name, yeah? Can’t for the fuckin’ life of me remember the code name though_ – Sofia turned to him with a wry smile. “You know, you do not need to keep your, uh… how you say? ‘Pretty’ voice?”

“It’s ‘posh’,” Eggsy corrected with a small laugh as he waited for both women to seat themselves before taking his own – Harry’d taught him proper manners, after all. “I call it my ‘posh voice’.” 

“Ah. Well, you do not need to keep with us, _caro_. We are not so stuffy as you English.” He laughed again, unable to deny the observation; even though Harry and Merlin had gone great lengths to tear down some of Kingsman’s elitist leanings, there were still some things that more than likely would never change. 

“Appreciated, Cosimo, but I don’t want to get out of the habit. Can you imagine if I was supposed to be posing as a lord somewhere and slipped up, calling someone’s wife _positively peng_?” A little confused frown appeared on both the women's faces.

“I have no idea what that means.” Sofia admitted after a moment with soft laughter. 

“Doesn’t matter, darling. Tell me all your troubles.” He said, gesturing toward Adelina and her tablet. With a tired sounding sigh, Sofia waved a hand for her Quartermaster to begin the briefing. 

“In all honesty, we first discovered the breach by accident. One of my staff, when asked to fetch for me details about a new project that had been sent from the Berlin branch, noticed that some emails showed signs of having been copied.” Adelina tapped a few times on her tablet, a screen descending from the ceiling to cover the lovely fresco on the wall. It soon filled with what appeared to be login credentials and date stamps. 

“If everything that’s accessed is tracked, would that not have told you who did so? Or at least where from?” Eggsy asked with a frown of concentration. Being a child of technology, he had a fairly good understanding of what was possible with a decent computer, but the tech used by Kingsman and her outlying branches was on another level entirely – that, and Merlin had always been rather tight-lipped and possessive of his toys. 

“Normally, _sì_. But not long after we discovered it, such things began disappearing – as though someone was working to erase their tracks that very moment. We were able to get an idea of what files were affected but could not follow the trail back to where it was being accessed from. There are not many who would be able to do so.”

“And this is what led you to believe that this may have – at least partially – been an inside job?” He asked Sofia, all their faces grave and severe at the thought. Traitors had never been taken lightly by Kingsman, even less so after Chester King’s betrayal.

“ _Sì_. We assigned our agent, Caravaggio, to the investigation; he was highly skilled in computer hacking and we thought it best to have someone knowledgeable.” Eggsy drew a deep breath, wary that he was about to upset them, but needing to ask the question all the same. 

“And you’re certain that Caravaggio wasn’t the potential traitor?” Sofia’s brow creased in a frown, while Adelina looked on the verge of being offended. Eggsy spread his hands in a ‘ _can you blame me?_ ’ sort of gesture. “If he was as skilled as you say, then that means that he would have equally had the skill to cover his own tracks.” 

“The thought had also crossed my mind,” Sofia replied, which caused Adelina to look a bit startled. “but when he turned up dead, that seemed to settle the issue. I will not baselessly sully the reputation of a dead man – his record had always been clean.”

“I understand, Cosimo. I merely wanted to make sure we were considering every avenue.” She nodded in acknowledgement. 

“We sent Caravaggio to Yemen, as he’d reported that his investigating had led him to believe our target was there. We lost all contact with him two days ago, until we found his body yesterday.”

“And your preliminary reports indicated that he’d either jumped or been thrown off a building, yeah?” 

“ _Sì_.”

“Can you tell me more about what information seemed to be affected?” Adelina moved some things around on her tablet, and several windows opened on the screen. 

Eggsy could see what looked to be after-action reports in Italian, as well as inter-agent emails. He spied one out of the corner of his eye that had been from Roxy to Amelia, in which she’d written ‘ _Thank god for our lovely Guinevere, or Arthur would have forgotten entirely to sign off on the water test for the new recruits – being the one to ‘die’ is no fun at all, by the way. I don’t think I’m cut out to be an actress_ ’. The sight caused a brief fond smile to flicker to his lips, before he forced himself back into seriousness.

“It all seems to be things of little consequence, which is what disturbs us.” Sofia said darkly. 

“Some of these emails appear to have nothing to do with the Italian branch,” He observed in confusion. “why would they be here?” 

“Ah,” Adelina cut in. “apologies that I did not explain. All this information is stored on… uh, like a big internal server? That all branches can access. This makes it easier for us to share information between us – how your Merlin can coordinate so that we don’t have crossover on missions.”

“So our target could have actually accessed this from any one of the branches? It didn’t _have_ to be from you?”

“ _Sì_. Which is also part of the mystery – why take from us? Perhaps they are from Italy, or a country close to here? We were most convenient? We do not know for sure.” 

“Or it could have been they chose you, because they had an inside man here already, if we go with the theory that they had help internally getting access.” He mused. It was definitely shaping up to be quite the difficult situation. _Fuck me, I might have a bit of a rough go with this one_. Both women nodded in agreement to the observation.

“We have Caravaggio’s body down in the morgue, if you’d like to have a look. Perhaps you will see something you think important.” 

“Yeah, alright.”

* * *

It was nearing midafternoon, and Harry’d received no updates on Eggsy’s situation in Italy. Though he logically understood that his husband needed to have something _to_ report before being able to do so, it still chafed at him. 

He’d grown more used to the sensation of being the one left behind, now that he’d held the position of Arthur for a few years, but that didn’t mean that he was entirely complacent to it. He was doing better, but there were still days that he forgot he was nearly fifty-seven years old, and perhaps being off active duty was for the best. 

A message pinged on his glasses from Andrew at the tailor shop, informing him that both Michelle and Mina would be arriving at the manor momentarily. He shot a look to Eggsy’s favourite settee within his office, seeing that little Daisy was still content with her colouring book.

“Gloria,” He said with some amusement upon hailing the support staff. “I believe I have guests imminent – would it be possible to have a tea service sent up to my office?” 

“ _Oh, but of course, Arthur dear_.” 

“Lovely, thank you.” A short break for some tea and conversation certainly wouldn’t be amiss, and perhaps it would serve as a good distraction from fretting over Eggsy for a time. 

The tea arrived not long after the ladies themselves, the both of them looking for the most part calm and content – Mina had progressed so far in her recovery from her ordeal, both Eggsy and Gaius were enormously proud of her – and Michelle seemed happy to merely have company.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Harry – I can fuss with the tea, love.” Michelle insisted, and he sat back in his chair with a nod of thanks, rubbing at his aching hands. Mina curled herself up in one of the chairs across his desk, toeing off her shoes and tucking bare feet underneath herself; Harry was uncertain if the urge to curl herself into as small a form as possible stemmed from her trauma, or if she’d merely always done so, but as she seemed to be happy in that moment he decided not to analyze it too much.

“And how is Asbo doing lately?” He asked instead. “When we saw you last night at supper I hadn’t the chance to ask.” 

“Oh Denny’s fine,” She replied with a smile. “really doing well at the firehouse, and getting along with the rest of ‘em better than before. He seems more… _at ease_ the last couple years, you know?” 

“I’m delighted to hear it.” 

“Oh! Before I forget – he wanted me to give you these.” From out of the pocket of what looked suspiciously to be one of Dennis’ own oversized jumpers, she drew a small bundle of cloth. Taking it curiously, Harry soon saw what looked to be a pair of [black fingerless gloves](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQeYxAfeoHAQXghfmzf85KMrIs-iTKKDYrFhUirNASKVMXj-npa). “He says they’re for your arthritis, that his mum had called from Cornwall this morning and was telling him all about them and how great they are. He said it wouldn’t hurt to see if they work for you too.” 

Blinking in surprise and feeling oddly touched by the gesture, Harry slipped the soft but tight fabric over his hands, astonished at how much the familiar aching decreased almost instantly. It wasn’t gone _completely_ , but there certainly was a marked difference. 

“Good lord.” He blurted out, and Mina snorted in amusement whilst Michelle let out a small giggle. 

“Yeah, he said something about they’ve got copper woven in ‘em, and the compression is supposed to be good? I don’t really get how it all works, but there you go.” 

“Well, please convey my sincerest thanks, upon your return home to him tonight.” After her abduction, Mina had taken to living with Dennis and his mother, Eggsy’s aunt. Harry couldn’t say he blamed her for wanting to keep her best friend and greatest source of comfort and safety close, after all she’d been through. 

“Ri-Ri…” Looking down at his side where Daisy was suddenly standing, clutching her book and her marker pens, he couldn’t help but smile down at her fondly.

“Yes, my princess?” 

“I’m colourin’ the butterflies, and I’m not doin’ it right.” She said with a pout. 

“There’s no wrong way to colour, my dear. However you wish them to look is exactly how they should be.” She rolled her eyes at him, and Harry was momentarily at a loss – it’d been a rather good bit of advice, he’d thought. 

“No, Ri-Ri! I wanna colour ‘em proper, like you do! With the names and the spots and ev’rythin’.” 

“Ah. I could… assist you, if you’d like?” Her beaming smile surely meant that was what she’d been aiming for him to offer in the first place. Helping her climb her way into his lap, he made sure his tea cup was well out of accidental striking range as she smacked her colouring book down upon the desk top. 

After a few moments of idle chatter with the ladies whilst he helped Daisy perfect her butterflies, Harry noticed that something seemed to be rather on Michelle’s mind, as she stared a bit blankly at the two of them in obvious thought.

“Is something the matter, Michelle?” She blinked a bit, as though broken from her thoughts, before sending him a nervous looking smile. 

“Er… well, actually, I’ve been… sort of wantin’ to ask you somethin’, Harry. But… well, it probably ain’t any of my business, and I didn’t want ta offend ya or anythin’, and – ”

“I can hardly think of anything you could ask that would offend me.” He cut in gently. 

“Oh. Well, it’s just… I been wonderin’ why it is that you never had any o’ your own?” She asked with a nod to Daisy and her cozy perch on him. “You’re so good with her, just sort of seems a shame.” 

“Oh thank god, I’ve been so curious too, but I didn’t want to ask!” Mina blurted out, and Harry could only look at the two of them for a moment. 

“Well… I suppose for several reasons; this country’s rather dim view of homosexuality in my younger years certainly played a factor, then my involvement with Kingsman, a lack of any significant relationship until Eggsy… There just was never really an opportunity, I suppose.” 

“But did you ever _want_ children? Not everybody does. I sure don’t.” Mina seemed to be asking out of genuine curiosity, and Harry honestly didn’t mind being asked, so he saw no reason not to answer the question. 

“It’d been expected of me, to have heirs.” He replied thoughtfully. “It wasn’t ever really something I gave much consideration to when I was young, just something that I assumed would happen one day because it _must_. But I suppose that when I grew a bit older, I did often think to the future, and what I pictured always did include children, a family.”

“What about now?” She pressed, and Harry jolted a little in surprise.

“Now? You must be joking, darling. I’m far too old to be considering it _now_.” Michelle snorted in disbelief.

“I’m not acceptin’ _that_ as an excuse. Besides, my Eggsy’s fit enough to be chasin’ after wee ones still – he’s been doin’ it for years now anyways.” 

“There is also Kingsman to consider.” His voice was grave, his eyes as he locked gazes with Lee Unwin’s widow full of regret. She gave him an assessing look for a moment, before her expression settled into the kind of mulish stubbornness that he’d seen many a time on her children’s faces. 

“Losin’ Lee was one o’ the worst things that ever happened to me, I won’t lie. But I’ll tell ya somethin’ else, Harry – if I hadn’ve had Eggsy to look after, especially in those first few months, I don’t know that I’d’ve been able to find the strength to go on at all. I made plenty o’ bad decisions, we all know that, but if it were a choice of dealin’ with Lee’s death all by myself, or of doin’ it with my boy there to bring some light back into my life, I know exactly which was better.” Harry swallowed hard around the upwelling of emotion. 

“All’s I’m sayin’ is that you shouldn’t let that stop ya, if it’s somethin’ that you want. Bein’ too afraid of consequences or what _might_ happen is what kept me with – ” Here her eyes flickered to Daisy. “well. You can’t just stay still in one place all your life, yeah?” 

“I mean, how hard would it be to adopt?” Mina asked, breaking the growing tensions slightly. “Or, hey! You could get a surrogate or something, right? Eggsy said you’re the last one of your family – you could like, use a surrogate and then carry on your family line or whatever, blah blah blah.” Her flippancy tugged a reluctant smile from him. 

“You two are speeding far ahead of me, I’m afraid. Eggsy and I have not ever discussed the topic, if I’m being perfectly honest.” They both stared at him for so long that he could feel a bit of defensiveness creeping in.

“You’ve been married for _four years_.”

“Yes…”

“ _How have you never had this conversation?!_ ”

* * *

Eggsy was already feeling a weariness in his bones as he settled into the plush seat of one of the Italian’s branches private jets. 

After a quick look at the agent’s corpse, Eggsy had agreed with their coroner that it looked most like the man had been thrown from the roof, which meant the next logical step was for Eggsy to travel to Yemen to examine the scene himself. Though Sofia’s agents had already given it a thorough looking-over, they’d all agreed that it wouldn’t hurt for fresh eyes to give it another go. 

Tapping at his glasses, he put through for a private communication with Harry, smiling as the little box arose in the corner of his view to show that the man was looking at reports from R&D, a very pretty drawing of a butterfly barely visible in one corner. 

“Hello, dearest. How are we faring?” Harry’s voice sounded stressed, but that wasn’t altogether out of the norm for when he was trapped at his desk. 

“Tell me you didn’t skip out on your tea, love. It’s nearly half-seven in England and I’m willing to bet supper’s still a ways off for ya.” 

“I had some tea with your mother and Mina when they came to fetch Daisy, not to worry.”

“Ah, good. Situation here’s lookin’ a bit sideways already; I’m pretty certain it’s at least partially an inside job, and Sofia’s considered it too. Only guy that I would’ve potentially pegged for it is the one already dead though, so guess we’re gonna have to look a bit deeper. I’m headin’ to Yemen meself now, so that I can take a look at things.”

“Hmm. So you have a good five and a half hour flight ahead of you.” 

“Seems so.” He said with a yawn, stretching out tight shoulders while he tried to get comfortable. 

“Just be safe, dearest.”

“Always, love. So what’d you and the girls get up to then?” He shut his eyes, knowing from experience that Harry wouldn’t be offended if he drifted off to his husband’s smooth voice. 

“Mina delivered to me some gloves from your cousin, to help with my arthritis. They’re actually rather remarkable.”

“Mmhmm. That’s nice of him.” 

“Quite. Your aunt is apparently thoroughly enjoying her visit to Cornwall.”

“Mmm.”

“Oh, and the girls wanted to know when we’re going to have children.”

“ _…What?!_ ”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** I just wanted to take the chance to say thank you to everyone for waiting so patiently (and so long!) for this chapter while I was recovering from surgery! You guys are the best  <3 

“Harry… Harry, I love you. But I’m gonna fuckin’ _murder_ you for droppin’ that on me like this.” 

Eggsy forcefully cut off the diatribe that he’d been prepared to let loose when it occurred to him that there might be more going on to the seemingly idle comment. True, Harry’s voice had held a note of flippancy like he’d just calmly been discussing the English rain or what to have for supper… but beneath that, Eggsy could detect a note of _nerves_. 

“When have I ever passed up the opportunity to startle you, dearest?” The older man’s voice still sounded the very definition of _collected_ , and it rang false to Eggsy’s ears. It was like Harry wanted to pass it off as a joke, as nothing important, in case that was also the way that Eggsy chose to take it. _Fuck that, mate_. 

“Well, s’pose I got a long flight ahead o’ me, so we’s got time to talk about it.” In the video feed, Harry’s hands very notably stilled before he carefully set down his pen upon the desk. 

“Talk about it?”

“Well, yeah. We ain’t ever talked about kids before. If I’m bein’ honest, I s’pose I just figured you weren’t interested – I mean, I know you love Dais and all, but that don’t necessarily mean you wanted to have your own.” He waited patiently as the older man seemed to take that in. 

“…I suppose I’m likewise guilty of assuming much the same.” He finally replied, and Eggsy silently let out the breath he hadn’t quite realized he’d been holding. “You spent the majority of your twenties raising Daisy, and you’d never mentioned wanting children of your own, so I presumed that meant you had no desire to do so all over again.” 

Eggsy felt a bit off balance, like he was in a place where he needed to be careful of his footing, and the only solace he had was the knowledge that Harry probably felt the same, only ten times worse.

“I always liked kids,” He began, knowing that when it came to the big steps of their relationship Harry would _always_ be the more hesitant one, that Harry would wait for him to take the lead. “when I was a teenager I s’pose I’d always sort o’ pictured meself with a few of ‘em. And Dais is so big now, growin’ like a fuckin’ _weed_ , and I ain’t gonna lie but it makes me a bit sad some days.”

“I… I also always pictured children in my future.” Harry’s voice was careful, like he was confessing to wanting something he wasn’t allowed to have, and the thought of that just broke Eggsy’s damn heart. “But between Kingsman and… well, it just never seemed to be the right time.” 

“You’re thinkin’ of dad again.” 

“I am.” 

“We been over this, love. Had done even before I knew you was wantin’ me.” Eggsy remembered back to their sombre conversation in front of the window, on his twenty-fifth birthday when Daisy was still just a babe in arms. True, they’d been discussing _her_ specifically at the time, but the conversation could be applied to any children involved in the Kingsman life. 

“I know.” 

“What else, then? I know that can’t be all that’s botherin’ ya about it.”

“…You’re going to be upset with me.” It didn’t take much more than that for it to click in Eggsy’s mind.

“For _fucks’ sakes_ Harry, yer _not old_.” 

“Eggsy, you cannot deny the fact that I’m old enough to be someone’s _grandfather_ , rather than father.”

“Who gives a fuck?! Who decided that people had to have a house and kids and a fuckin’ white fence by the age o’ twenty anyways? Christ, Harry, I’m nearly thirty fuckin’ years old meself – there’s people who’d be sayin’ that _I’m_ almost too old fer it. Who cares at all what other people are thinkin’ or expectin’? Only thing that should matter is what _we_ want, what _we_ decide!” He cut himself off, suddenly realizing that he’d been practically shouting by the end of it; apparently, he’d felt rather more strongly on the subject than even _he’d_ thought. 

Eggsy took a deep breath, before starting again in a more reasonable tone. 

“Harry. Fuck the rest o’ it, and just answer a question.”

“…Alright.” 

“Do ya want kids?” He waited a little anxiously, aware that they were on the verge of something important. He could hear the other man swallow harshly.

“Yes. Very much.” Eggsy clenched his hands at the confirmation, knowing that such a plain answer had probably cost Harry a lot. 

“Me too.” He finally replied, heart beginning to beat madly once again. “So’s we do this then. Let’s talk about how.” 

“You make it sound so easy…” Harry replied, a little incredulously, and Eggsy couldn’t stop the grin that spread to his lips.

“That’s ‘cos it _is_ , you dramatic fuck.” Harry’s slightly breathless laugh went a long way to reassuring him that they were on a good path. “We got options, yeah?”

“Yes, we do.”

* * *

Harry went to bed alone that night, feeling a bit like his entire world had twisted around him. 

He cursed to himself for having brought it up in such a situation in the first place – it would have been much better to have been able to see Eggsy’s face, to know what he was thinking – but if he were perfectly honest with himself, that was partially _why_ he’d done so in the first place.

When it came to Eggsy, in many ways… Harry was a coward. 

He’d brought the subject of children up at a moment when they were separated, because at heart he’d been petrified that if Eggsy could see his _own_ face, that he would know how badly Harry wanted it. 

He wouldn’t have been able to handle the thought of Eggsy not feeling the same way on the subject, or – worse yet – agreeing to children solely for Harry’s benefit. He’d grown up as the product of _expectation_ , and he’d never want to inflict such on his own children; he’d never want them to feel as though they’d been an afterthought. 

_Options_ , Eggsy had said, _we have options_. 

They’d only discussed the preliminaries, as Eggsy’d wanted to wait to “get serious about it” once he’d returned home – _and **really** , Harry, can you blame him for that_ – so he was left feeling curiously… _adrift_ , in the meantime. 

The new day dawned with the older man feeling as though he hadn’t slept a wink, too occupied with _what ifs_ and _options_ and fear of making a wrong choice. 

Slapping blearily at the night table, he eventually set hands on his Kingsman glasses and perched them upon his face.

“Merlin?”

“ _You’re up rather early, Harry_.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be in today until the afternoon.”

“ _…You’re actually **informing** me that you’re going to be late? Harry, are you feeling alright?_ ”

“Well, the last time I was late you and Eggsy started a city-wide manhunt for me.”

“ _And for bloody good reason, too_.” He laughed lightly at his friend’s droll tone. 

“I will see you later.” 

“ _Alright, Harry. Call if you need anything_.”

Coming to a decision and refusing to second-guess himself, Harry made for their shared wardrobe. He was about to reach for one of his usual suits, when he paused – loneliness and a want for his missing husband welled within him, and Harry thought that perhaps he would allow himself to indulge the feeling just a bit. Instead, he grabbed for an old pair of denims, and stole Eggsy’s chocolate brown Henley shirt.

As the soft fabric slipped over his head, Eggsy’s scent of apples and vanilla seemed to wash over him, calming frayed nerves. 

“Alright, old man.” He muttered to himself once he’d brushed his teeth and seen to JB’s breakfast, setting out from the Mews with his destination firmly in mind. 

It wasn’t an excessively long journey, as he’d attempted to be a little more conscious of safety and had taken a Kingsman cab rather than walking or public transport. When he arrived in Mile End, he couldn’t quite prevent himself from taking stock of the place – old spy habits die hard, as it were – and his momentary pause seemed to be enough to draw attention.

“Oi, you need somethin’?” A voice called, not in an unfriendly tone, but merely curious. Harry turned to see a young, dark haired woman in half a firefighter’s uniform lounging on the steps of one of the trucks in the open bay doors. 

“Ah, yes. I’m looking for Dennis Severs; I believe he’s working this morning.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise – perhaps at his accent? – before her eyes narrowed again slightly in suspicion.

“What you want with Asbo?” Harry blinked, trying to exude innocence, knowing that he was probably doing a shit job of it.

“I’m his cousin.” 

“The _fuck_ you is.” She barked out incredulously, rising from her seated position to saunter closer to him. Harry couldn’t help the wry twist of his lips.

“His cousin by marriage.” He explained, though she seemed no further convinced that he was telling the truth.

“Uh huh. Believable, that.” Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he had the opportunity, there came the distinctive squeal of a child and the sound of Dennis’ laughter. They both turned as the man himself came from around the building, a young boy in a Batman tee slung over his shoulder upside down. 

“Oi, Zigg, I got a special deliv’ry for ya!” He called, focused on the squirming boy, before he raised his head and caught sight of Harry. “Oh, heya Haz! What’re you doin’ down here, mate?” 

“You know this guy, Asbo?” The young woman – _Zigg?_ – asked, shoulders easing but still looking wary of him. Dennis snorted a laugh as he drew closer to them.

“…’Course I do, Ziggy. Married me hopeless cousin, he did.” 

“Your cousin the tailor?”

“That’s the one.” Ziggy looked him over once again as Dennis handed the laughing child off to her. 

“Seems about right.” She murmured. 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss.” Seemingly no longer suspicious, she gave him a rather bemused looking smile. 

“Sure.” She patted the young boy on the leg, where he now hung over her own shoulder. “Let’s go find yer daddy, yeah?” 

“Think I saw Little Al near the kitchens last.” Dennis said with a grin, before clapping a hand to Harry’s shoulder blade and using the momentum to begin pushing him off to the side of the building that he’d originally come from. Once they’d travelled a distance out of hearing range, the young man’s face turned serious. “Somethin’ up? Eggsy alright?” Harry blinked at the urgent tone, only just then realizing how his sudden arrival might have looked from the outside. 

“Oh, yes – he’s fine, not to worry. In Yemen, currently.” Dennis’ face cleared, easing and becoming merely curious.

“So what’s up then, guv? You’ve never taken a trip down here before.” 

“My apologies, as I’m sure I probably shouldn’t be bothering you whilst at work. It’s just… I found myself in need of talking to someone – someone who understands Eggsy and the way he thinks – and I’m afraid my feet carried me your way.” Dennis looked surprised, and a small bit pleased, by the pronouncement. 

“Let’s head to the roof then. Good spot for a private talk, guv.” 

“Wonderful.”

* * *

As he’d suspected, the rooftop where Caravaggio had been pushed to his death wasn’t giving Eggsy much to work with that the Italian branch hadn’t already noted. 

There were definitely subtle signs of a struggle, reinforcing their conclusion that he’d been murdered, but one factor that _had_ stuck out in Eggsy’s mind was the fact that those very same signs were largely centered near the roof’s edge. 

_Wouldn’t that mean that Caravaggio had already been near the edge of the roof **before** being forced over?_

That in of itself was maybe a bit odd, but nothing too strange – what truly had Eggsy scratching at his head was the fact that the area was fairly… _open_. Aside from the doorway that provided the access to the roof, there wasn’t anything else up there that would have given their unknown murderer a spot to hide – so how was it possible that someone had gotten the drop on a professional Kingsman agent up there without having been fucking _invisible_.

It didn’t make sense. 

_Unless_. And Eggsy absolutely _hated_ the thought, but the only explanation his brain could come up with was that maybe Caravaggio had _known_ his murder. That they hadn’t _needed_ to hide on the rooftop, because he’d been _expecting_ them. 

“Merlin?”

“ _Aye, Excalibur?_ ”

“We’re certain we don’t have any camera footage from up here, or any cameras in the area?”

“ _Unfortunately not, lad_.” Eggsy clenched his jaw, a bad feeling writhing in his gut. “ _Tell me what you’re thinking_.”

“Somethin’ ain’t right here, Merls. I can just _feel_ it.” 

“ _You know that Arthur and I have always held your instincts in high regard_.” Eggsy couldn’t suppress the smirk that tilted to his lips.

“Oh, darling – you always talk so sweet.” The beleaguered sigh that the Quartermaster let out was positively _gratifying_. 

“ _You’re lucky that Arthur isn’t here to hear you say that_.” Brows pulling together in a small frown, Eggsy glanced down at his Kingsman watch. 

“Almost half-eleven there, innit?” 

“ _Aye, that it is. He rang this morning to let me know that he wouldn’t be in until the afternoon_.”

“He… he _told_ you he was gonna be late?”

“ _That’s what I said, too_.” Though Merlin was chuckling, Eggsy felt slightly uneasy at Harry’s apparent absence. _Is this because o’ the talk we had? Is Harry steppin’ out on work because he’s upset about summat?_

“…Right. Well, I just got a bad feelin’, as I said. From the look o’ things here, if I had to go with me gut I’d be sayin’ that Caravaggio was familiar with his killer, which is only leavin’ me with even more questions.” 

“ _Familiar, you say? You’d already expressed the suspicion that our thief had an inside man…_ ”

“Yeah, but like I told Arthur earlier, to be honest Caravaggio himself is the one I would’ve pegged as most likely for it, given his skillset. But he can’t be the traitor if he’d ended up dead investigatin’ the thing, right?” 

“ _Well, one thing’s for sure, lad – there isn’t much more that you can learn by staying in Yemen, I expect. Why don’t you come on home and we’ll go from there_.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Eggsy resisted the urge to kick at the ground in a fit of pique more suited to someone half his age, the frustration beginning to rise within him.

Nothing was making any _sense_. It was turning far too complicated.

* * *

“ _Jesus_ , guv. You two don’t know how to do anythin’ any way but _complicated_.” Dennis shook his head ruefully as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from within his baggy fireman’s trousers. 

“I thought you were trying to quit?” Harry observed, a flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth as Dennis lit the end with a cheap plastic lighter.

“Some days I try harder’n others. Mina’s been tryin’ ta keep me straight on it, but it ain’t always easy.” There was a beat of companionable silence between them while Dennis smoked, both seemingly lost in thought. “So let’s see if I’ve got the right of it,” The younger man cut in after some time. “You and Eggsy are thinkin’ about havin’ some wee ones, but you’re worried that you’ve rushed ya both into it.” 

“I suppose that’s a fairly concise grasp of it, yes.” 

“Is it really _rushin’_ , though? I mean, you been married for four years already, been together more on top o’ that, even. That don’t seem like rushin’.” 

“We’d never even discussed the topic before the ladies’ prompting yesterday, and now it’s…”

“I know what you’re thinkin’, guv, but Eggsy wouldn’ve had the talk in the first place if he hadn’t really wanted to.” Harry had to concede that Dennis had a point; it was extremely difficult in recent years to get Eggsy to do something he wasn’t fond of already. Dennis turned to lean back against the wall that edged the rooftop, and Harry followed suit. 

“I suppose I’m unsure of where he will want to go with this next. There seem to be so many options – adoption, surrogacy, all of that – how are we to choose? And, if I’m being perfectly honest, I know the two of us well enough to know that we are likely to spend the whole conversation dancing around what we _want_ to say in an effort to spare each others’ feelings.” The younger man huffed a laugh at that, wisps of smoke escaping from his mouth.

“Yeah, you two’re fuckin’ _terrible_ for that.” He tapped the cigarette out on the concrete beside him, looking thoughtful. “I s’pose it’s easier when it’s a bloke and bird, you just… _have_ the thing, yeah?” He winced afterwards, obviously aware that what he’d just said could be taken offensively. “Er… sorry.” 

“Not to worry, I believe I know what you were aiming for. I always sort of envied heterosexual couples that aspect of it, I think.” 

“What d’you mean, guv?”

“Not to discredit adoption in the slightest, you understand. But… I would watch when friends or family of mine would have children, and everyone around them would go on about ‘oh they have his eyes’ or ‘they have your mouth’. The ability to see aspects of the both of you, merged into this tiny representation of your love for each other… I suppose I’ve always been quite jealous of it. No matter what option you choose, that is an impossibility for same-sex couples.”

The thought made Harry inexplicably sad, so he was doubly startled when Dennis suddenly barked out a laugh.

“Sorry, sorry – it’s just, I had this thought, yeah? That you should get yer Merlin workin’ on it, ‘cos if there were anyone on this earth capable of some science fiction shite like that, it would be that Scottish bastard.” 

Harry couldn’t help the laughter that suddenly pealed out of him, purely from the image of Merlin standing in front of some kind of test tube holding his trusty clipboard, a little proto-human floating inside.

“Oh good lord!”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mauzymorn)!


End file.
